P is for Peter
by A.Hand.Full.Of.Pearls
Summary: Poor Edith, I just felt so sorry for her last week I had to write an alternative ending for her. One shot Edith/P.Gordon. Please review, it makes my day!


Edith Crawley had always been the middle sister, the one they forgot. Small and shy and plain, not beautiful like her haunty older sister Mary or exciting and passionate like young Sybil.

She had always had a talent for blending into the background.

But now she seemed to have a purpose; the war made people needy and reliant and somehow that gave her a reason to work. Day after day she dutifully bowed her blonde head in concentration over a blank piece of paper and wrote to another soldier's mother. Her handwriting was neat and simple, easily read.

It was difficult to state the plain facts so bluntly in a letter but Edith tried her best, making jokes with the men as she wrote and putting them at ease in her quiet company.

Everything changed the day Patrick Gordon told her his secret.

Long hidden feelings curled in the pit of her stomach and she remembered, oh, how she remembered him. Such a lovely man and so ready to do his duty.

In her heart she didn't even think twice about his story. It was true, it had to be.

He sat next to her in the garden and they watched the house perform its every day miracles. Edith felt strange in his presence, not uncomfortable, just unsettled. The family were so set against him. Her mind told her to think logically but she just so wanted him to be true.

His breath was slow and rattled the air around them.

The burns didn't scare her. Yes, they were horrific but it didn't make her want to recoil in horror instead it made her proud of him, putting up with the pain.

Edith felt a shiver of dislike for Mary when she remembered the looked upon her perfect face when faced with Patrick. The painted on smile and the glint of disgust in the eye. It burned Edith's heart with hate to even think about it.

He moved behind her and the was a soft weight on her shoulder; his hand. She turned and look at the scarred flesh, watching how the colours of his skin rippled against the moments. Steadily she lifted her hand and placed it on top of his without turning around. At the contact she felt him flinch but not pull away.

They sat in silence, listening to the sound of peace.

Then she felt him move forwards, closer to her, and was startled when he placed a tender kiss on top of the hand that held his. His lips were rough and uneven, but it still made her skin jolt as he touched it. Fire shot through her arm and lit up her face, forcing it to break into a genuine smile.

"Sorry" His voice was broken and gruff.

"Its quite alright..." Edith trailed off as she turned around to him. His face was so close to hers and his watery eyes were so blue, so hypnotic.

"Do I not repulse you Edith?"

She blinked and smiled, letting the love she felt so unexpectedly swell in her heart take her over.

"Don't be ridiculous" Slowly she lent up to him, letting her hand trace the stiff folds of the green soldiers uniform, he looked down at the hand and watched it thoughtfully.

Softly she kissed his broken cheek, letting her lips linger against the burnt flesh.

He closed his red scarred eyelids as her lips brushed his face. Edith drew back, embarrassed at her own boldness.

"I'm ever so sorry" Her posh clipped tones interrupted the silence and echoed around the marble structure they sat on. His hand was still curled round the crook of her shoulder and she was surprised when his fingers gently stroked the silk of her blouse, back and forth, like the hands of a clock. The action was unremarkable and perfectly innocent. Like herself.

They watched Mary slowly pushing cousin Matthew across the lawn.

"You don't hate him for taking your place?"

Patrick paused, taking a slow rattling breath and she held his fingers tighter, pushing them into her shoulder subconsciously.

"No"

"Tell me about Canada?"

They sat out in the gardens all afternoon, till the sun grew cold and Downton cast a long black shadow across the well kept green grounds. Conversation was easily and flowed wonderfully, it was so nice to be paid attention to for once.

Patrick stretched painfully and stood up, gallantly offering her is red, raw hand. Edith took it gently and stood beside him.

Their hands remained clasped, skin against blistered skin.

It felt right.

It always had done.


End file.
